Past Postum; Live Was I
by Mundungus Fletcher
Summary: Bill's first year at Hogwarts


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Past Postum; Live Was I

The adventures of Bill Weasley, during his first year

I own nothing. And I'm sad

(I wonder... Will Ron ever get to play Quidditch? What would he play as?)

***

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Diagon Alley

So dark. It was so dark. Why was it so dark? He knew he was walking, but where, and why? Where was he going? He could barely see where he put his feet down, it was so dark. He felt a loneliness worse than he had ever known. He was the only one there, in the darkness, because nobody else knew or cared about him. His feet began to get very heavy, but he didn't dare stop walking, or something would catch up with him. He was reaching his hands out, trying to feel what was in front of him, and suddenly the world lit up. It was illuminated by a nauseating green light, what disease would look like if you could see it, and he felt spasm of horror. He could not move, he could only look. He was standing outside his house, on the roof, looking down on the village far below. He could hear screams, and dark shapes moving around down on the streets. The green light grew in intensity, and it was burning through his eyes like fire. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the horrible images, but it was in vain. He could still see, no matter how hard he shut his eyes. 

The green light seemed to make it hard for him to breathe.

And then, from a house somewhere in the middle of the village, a terrifying shape rose like a billowing cloud of smoke made up of emerald green stars. Like the skull of a human being, with a snake protruding from its mouth. The Dark Mark. It was alive, and it was looking for him. His eyes now hurt so badly that he threw himself down on the ground and put his hands in front of them, but the green light still shone through. He could feel the damp soil underneath him, and knew it was for his grave. He knew the Dark Mark could see him. It was coming for him, but he couldn't move. It was close now; he could feel its breath wash over him like locusts over a cornfield. He fell down into darkness so thick he could feel it, like he was sinking through an endless well full of oil, with something heavy on top of him, making it impossible for him to get back up to the surface. His breath caught in his throat and he couldn't breathe. He knew he was going to die, and all he could think of was that nobody would ever find his body, or know that he had existed at all.

And suddenly, Bill Weasley sat bolt upright in his bed, breathing very fast and clutching his throat with both hands. He was sweating all over, and his eyes looked wildly around the room for a couple of seconds before he realized he had been having a bad dream. He was breathing hard, savouring every breath of air for a while, before he calmed down and lit the lamp on his nightstand. 'Thank God it has the right colour', Bill thought as the light from the lamp illuminated himself and his room in tones of yellow and white. It was quite a small room, with only one window at the far end; his bed stood parallel to the opposite wall, right next to the door. 

Bill sighed heavily and got up. 

He was tall for his age, with short but burning red hair and freckles all over his thin face, which for the moment looked shaken and weary. He walked over to the window, looked carefully outside for just a moment, and then opened it. Old habits die hard. The cool night air gently swept into his room and caressed his face as he leaned outside, the sweat on his forehead slowly getting wiped away. The stars were shining quite clearly in the sky, and it was probably still the middle of the night. Bill spotted a few constellations before he jumped up and sat on the windowsill, leaning out a bit, his legs hanging freely in the air. It was a bit chilly; the only thing moving were the trees, swaying slowly in the wind, and the only thing to be heard was the rustle of leaves. Bill had always loved the night; it was so peaceful and… quiet. And beautiful. Especially the moon, now that it was full. It was great otherwise too, but when it was full, it was the most beautiful thing he could think of. There were a couple of clouds up there in the sky, and when they passed underneath the moon, they formed great wide patches of black, sweeping silently across the ground, over the village and -

Bill jumped down from the windowsill and closed the curtains, though he left the window open. He looked around his room again. 

Small, but on the other hand, he didn't own enough things to really need more space. He didn't have many things at all. A decently fast racing broom, the Shooting Star which he had gotten last Christmas, a clock, a few books, all of them Muggle crime novels, and some posters on his favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, where the same seven witches and wizards kept waving energetically at him, all wearing bright orange robes and carrying broomsticks. Apart from his clothes, those were the only things he cared enough about to call his own. The only pieces of furniture he had in his room were a single chair, standing in front of a wooden desk on the other side of the door, and the nightstand next to his bed. 

Bill walked over to the desk and frowned. There was an open letter lying on it, next to an envelope addressed in green and sealed with a coat of arms displaying a snake, a badger, an eagle and a lion. 

He was going to Hogwarts. He felt thrilled of course, but with every passing day he wondered if it wasn't more anxiety than thrill. After all, he would be leaving his family for the first time in his life. Now that he thought about it, he was probably more terrified than thrilled. What if he didn't make any friends? He'd be alone all year through, except for Christmas and Easter. He wanted to have a pet with him, like a cat or an owl, but his parents simply couldn't afford anything beyond his school equipment.

He looked over at the clock standing on the nightstand next to his bed. It was a Chudley Cannons clock, orange, with four different sized golden broomsticks that now pointed on 'August', '23rd', 'Monday' and 'Bedtime', and a single silver one that now pointed on 'Home' but could also point at 'School', 'Hospital', 'Prison', 'No Idea', and, oddly enough, 'Underwater'. It also had a very short white one that was pointing on 'Fine' but could also point on 'Sad' 'Tired', 'Asleep', 'Angry', 'Sick' and 'Dead'. He had bought it himself, one time when he was in Diagon Alley. He had had to pay with the lot of his savings. He wouldn't get to bring his broom though; he was kind of disappointed about that. 

Despite all the anxiety of going to Hogwarts, he was glad. His dad was going with him to Diagon Alley the next day, to buy his school things, and for that, he knew he was thrilled. Diagon Alley was in Bill's opinion the next best thing to home, and whenever his parents would go there, he was sure to tag along as well. There were so many things to see there, like the owlery and Flourish and Blotts, not to mention Quality Quidditch Supplies, and he always seemed to spot something new every time he went. His father had actually taken a day off from work tomorrow, just to go with Bill to buy his school stuff. 

Bill had read the school equipment list many times. It wasn't going to come in cheap. He wondered how it would be when his parents would have to buy school equipment for five people, the day when Fred and George started school, with Percy, Charlie and himself already going. And even when Bill and Charlie left it wouldn't get very easier, since Ron and Ginny would start school.

His mother was staying behind, to watch the rest of the family. Charlie was coming with him though; he was quite as fascinated by Diagon Alley as Bill was, and was also quite envious of him going to Hogwarts. He wanted to go too. Bill wouldn't have minded. He liked his brother, and they were quite close. After all, there was only one year separating the two, and he would really have liked to have him with him his first day of school.

Bill lay down on the bed again. It was late, and he'd might as well try and go back to sleep. He looked around his room again. It had been his room for over six years, though Bill feared that would soon change. His youngest brother and the even younger sister were still sleeping in the same room as their parents. However, now that Bill was going away to Hogwarts, his room would almost definitely be taken over by either Ron or Ginny or both. And when he came back for the summer holidays, he'd probably have to share room with Charlie. Sighing, he turned off the lamp and pulled the covers over him, but he didn't close his eyes. He just lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He would glance at the window every now and then, when the curtains fluttered due to the wind, stare at it apprehensively for a while, as if expecting someone or something to charge in, and then continue to stare at the ceiling. It took a long while, but finally the white broomstick on his clock began moving, passed 'Sad' and 'Tired' and stopped on 'Asleep'.

***

Early the next morning, Bill was awakened by the usual dull thud of his bedroom door against his bed, as his mother, a short and only slightly plump witch with a kind face, poked her head inside and announced that it was time for breakfast. Bill had never closed the window to his room, and the temperature in his room was quite low. It was getting colder, though it only showed during the night. He got up quickly and dressed in the clothes he had hanging over the chair in front of his desk, all of which were of course quite as cold as the rest of the room, before leaving through the door and going down to eat breakfast, past the doors labelled 'Percy's Room' and 'Fred/George', down an uneven staircase, past 'Charlie's' and up a narrow passageway until he finally reached the kitchen. The rest of his family, except for Charlie, were already there, sitting around the kitchen table and eating breakfast, everyone with burning red hair. 

Ron, his youngest brother, having celebrated his third birthday a couple of weeks ago, was sitting at the far end, attempting to butter his bread himself when his mother wasn't looking, failing miserably and smearing butter all over the table. Next to Ron, both sitting in their pyjamas, were Fred and George, who were being silly as usual and made a point of buttering bread, eating, and drinking milk in exact unison. Percy was scowling at them next to Ginny, who was waving merrily at Bill from where she was sitting, the spot in front of her on the table a complete mess. Bill's father, a thin wizard whose wavy red hair was sticking out at odd angles, was sitting at the far end of the table, sipping tea and reading the _Daily Prophet_, propped up against the table. He was looking quite tired, probably from having gotten home in the middle of the night again, a bit of a routine for him after having been promoted into head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office a couple of weeks back. He usually got about four or five hours sleep every night, but he was happy. Being in charge of that particular Department had been his dream for years.

"Morning everyone," Bill said as he sat down by the table. "Where's Charlie?"

"He finished eating about a couple of minutes ago and went out to ride his broomstick," his mother answered, bustling around the kitchen counter. She was baking something that puffed purple smoke high into the air every other minute.

"He'll probably grow up to become a professional Quidditch player, that one," Bill's father said, smiling slightly. "He spends more time up in the air than he does on the ground."

"Quidditch is great and all, but he's fanatic!" Fred said, George nodding next to him.

"Well I rather have him flying than blowing up his room or destroying property," their mother said loudly. "As some I could mention... Remember you are to weed out the herb garden today, to make up for what you did to Percy's rat." 

"It was a joke, Mum!" George groaned.

"Somehow I don't see the fun in setting other people's pets on fire," their mother said, turning around and looking at Fred and George. "Now be quiet!"

The twins scowled at her as she turned and continued with her baking, before going back to their breakfast at exactly the same time, both lifting a sandwich and taking a bite.

Bill was sitting silently and eating his breakfast, bacon sandwiches and porridge, without paying much attention to what he was doing. He was far too anxious to get to Diagon Alley.

Fred and George finished first and, eyeing their mother warily, silently slid off their chairs and began inching away from the kitchen, towards their room.

"The garden, boys," their mother said, without turning around.

Fred and George rolled their eyes and began shuffling towards the front door. Ron was laughing happily, pointing at them, and Ginny clapped her hands.

"Watch it," Fred said warningly to them.

Ginny and Ron began cheering madly, their hands waving in the air, swinging sandwiches and spoons.

Meanwhile, Percy was talking with his dad, sipping tea in a dignified way. They were discussing the Minister of Magic.

"He's about to quit, isn't he?" Percy asked.

"Oh yes," his father answered. "He's been planning to for some time now. Intends to live the last of his life at some faraway place in the southern somewhere, now that the world is at peace again. He'll be resigning around this time next year, and after that, there will be a vote for the new one."

"Who are the candidates?"

"They aren't decided yet. The public nominates them, a few months before the actual vote. Of course, most people wanted Dumbledore to become Minister of Magic, but he has made perfectly clear that he has no intention of leaving Hogwarts."

"Why not? Why doesn't he want to become Minister of Magic?"

"He just likes it where he is."

Percy seemed to ponder this. After a while he just shook his head.

"I'm going to go and keep an eye on Fred and George, and make sure they do their job instead of fool around."

He slid off his chair and went after the twins through the front door. Ginny and Ron began cheering again, for no apparent reason. Bill's father seemed in no hurry to get going, so Bill excused himself and left the kitchen as well. He walked back to his room and got his broomstick ('C'mere' Bill said, his hand outstretched towards the broom, which jumped into his hand immediately), and climbed up on the windowsill again. He usually got out this way whenever he was bringing his broomstick. It granted him such a wonderful feeling of freedom, just the fact that he didn't have to use the front door. Bill had first done it when he had tried to escape from a skunk that had somehow (probably with a bit of help from Fred and George) gotten into his room. Then he had mounted the broom already in his room, and just sort of slid out the window and down onto the ground. He had developed a different way of doing it since then, though.

Bill sat up on his heels and leaned out, crouched down on the windowsill. He drew a deep breath, and then hurled himself out the window, holding his broom in his hand. He could feel the air rush past his ears and his stomach drop, his face making a mask of utter concentration as Bill mounted the broom in mid air and sped upwards again, just as he was about to hit the ground. Bill leaned forward and landed, getting off and laying his broomstick over his left shoulder as he walked around the house corner. His mum would probably skin him alive if she ever saw him jumping from his window like that, let alone fly where he wasn't supposed. He walked up an uphill slope along the side of the house, until he emerged at the top around the rightmost corner, and strode across the lawn, getting envious looks from Fred and George, who were crouching in the garden with moist soil up to their ankles. Percy was standing next to them, his arms crossed, looking very important.

Bill slowly walked up the hill that led to the small paddock where they were allowed to fly, not in any real hurry to get anywhere. He half hoped his dad would come out of the house behind him and yell that it was time to go. There were trees on both sides of the path he walked; big green spruces that effectively shielded him from view from the village below. Charlie usually began flying here already, darting bravely through the trees, flying at top speed. Bill was actually a bit envious of him. Charlie was a real natural, and Bill didn't doubt for a second that he would be in the school's Quidditch team when he got to Hogwarts, in his second year when he was allowed to bring his broom. 

The sun shone warm on his neck, still quite as hot as in June, the days when the weather wasn't busy being awful of course, and it hardly felt like school would start the very next week. It was an ideal day to go to Diagon Alley, and also a great day to go flying. He was nearing the hill's summit, and he could see Charlie fly back and forth across the paddock, at high speed, doing daring loops and narrow turns. It wasn't hard to see how much he loved flying. Charlie had a Shooting Star as well, the same year model as Bill's, and he constantly seemed to be trying to take it over the edge. Bill leaned his broom against a tree and stood and watched him for a while, all the while wondering when his broom was going to give up and explode or when Charlie would simply go too far and get thrown off. Charlie flew back and forth across the paddock, sometimes going further than he should, flying in through the trees. Bill always drew his breath when he did that, and began breathing again only when Charlie's blurred profile had stopped zooming among the trees and shot back out.

He suddenly noticed Bill and stopped dead in the air. He waved.

"Hey Bill," He shouted. "Care to join me?"

Bill didn't answer, and instead mounted his broom and flew up to him, stopping by his side.

"It depends," Bill said, taking his hands off his broom and leaning back, holding it with his thighs. "If we're gonna fly like you are we might as well just kill ourselves right now and get it over with."

Charlie just laughed. "I know what I'm doing, Bill, don't worry about it. Is it time to go?"

"No, Dad's still eating breakfast, or reading the paper more likely. I'm just trying to kill some time."

"Well then, you're in the right place," Charlie said, smiling as he gripped his broom, making him sway in the air slightly. "Race me?"

Bill looked around the small enclosure.

"Um... Where to? There aren't very many places to race to around here," he said, leaning forward and gripping his broom again.

"I'd say the path leading up here is concealed enough. First one back wins?"

Bill laughed.

"You're on."

They both flew down to the path, right where it began to slope down. Bill looked at Charlie.

"On three."

"Ok."

They both began counting under their breath, just loud enough to hear each other.

"One... Two... -"

And suddenly, just as both of them yelled 'Three!' and began flying forward, their father Apparated right in front of them, causing both Charlie and Bill to stop dead and fall head-first off their brooms, onto the ground.

"Having fun boys?" their father asked happily, looking down at them. "It's time to go! Get your broomsticks and head back down to the house." 

He glanced at the two brooms in front of him, both still hovering in mid air. 

"Walk, mind."

He Disapparated.

Bill's mouth was full of dirt, and his head was dizzy with pain. He looked over at Charlie, who lay next to him, coughing in the dust and massaging his ribs.

"Never mind the loops or the trees, it takes Dad to get me off of my broom," he gasped.

Bill laughed hoarsely, sitting up on his heels. "He's got a talent for bad timing."

They got up, brushed the dirt off their robes, and began walking back down towards the house. Fred and George were still in the garden, pretending to work and playing with a garden gnome. Percy was still standing behind them, arms crossed. He hadn't realised the twins had somehow tied his shoelaces together. Ron and Ginny were streaking around the garden on toy broomsticks, racing butterflies and trying to catch dandelion seeds that flew past the garden, carefully watched over by their mother who was sitting by the pond, knitting a jumper. When they entered the kitchen again, their dad was standing by the fireplace, waiting for them. He took a flowerpot off the mantelpiece and gave it to Bill.

"You first, Bill. Remember to get out of the way once you're there, and give some room for Charlie."

Bill nodded, and dipped his hand into the flowerpot, taking a pinch of Floo powder. He scattered it into the flames, instantly turning them green, and walked into them.

"Diagon Alley!" he shouted, and immediately felt himself get torn away, spinning very quickly and flying very fast. He didn't care much for travel by Floo powder. It made him feel sick every time. The wind rushed past his ears, and his eyes began to water as he squinted out in front of him, trying to see through the blaze of green flames that surrounded him, waiting for the right grate. After a while, he felt himself slowing down, and then he saw the grate, and the Leaky Cauldron beyond it, coming towards him at high velocity. He straightened out, and was immediately thrown through the grate, out onto the floor. He stumbled a bit, but managed to stay on his feet. He took a few steps forward, brushing soot off his robes, and looked around. 

He was standing at the far corner of the Leaky Cauldron, where the fireplace was situated. A couple of old wizards were sitting by a table right next to him, smoking pipes and apparently playing a game of Gobstones. One of wizards lost a point and immediately the stones squirted some smelly liquid right into his left eye. He cursed quietly, wiping his face, and then went back to the game. Two young witches were sitting at a table by the exit, drinking sherry and gossiping. Apart from them, the pub was devoid of customers.

Tom the landlord was standing behind the bar, wiping it absentmindedly and whistling to himself. He smiled at Bill when he saw him, and Bill could see he had a tooth missing right in front on the upper side.

"Well, if it isn't young Billy Weasley," Tom said, leaning over the counter and smiling at him. "You're starting Hogwarts this year, aren't you? Come to get your school stuff?"

"Yeah," Bill answered, smiling back. He had always liked Tom. "Slow day?"

"Just the way I like 'em," Tom said.

There was a whooshing sound behind him, and Bill turned to see Charlie falling out of the fireplace, tripping and falling down on the floor. Moments later, there was a faint popping noise and his father Apparated next to him, bending down and helping Charlie to his feet.

"Alright there, Arthur?" Tom said. 

"Have anything?"

"Maybe when I come back, Tom. Lots to buy," Bill's father answered, walking up to the counter and smiling at Tom.

"Yes, I understand - Hey Charlie, how are you?"

"I'm ok," Charlie answered, brushing dust off his robes.

"He starting Hogwarts also, Arthur?" Tom asked, pointing at Charlie and looking puzzled. "Is he... -"

"No, no, he'll go next year, he just wanted to come along."

"I bet I could though," Charlie said. "Who'd notice?"

Bill's father just smiled and motioned for both his sons to follow him, as he waved goodbye to Tom and led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds. Bill's father got his wand out and began counting bricks.

"Now, I went to Gringotts last night before I got home, so we should be able to afford everything without having to make a second visit," he mumbled. "... And two across -" 

He tapped one of the bricks in the wall, and seconds later there was a giant hole leading right through it, onto the dwindling streets of Diagon Alley.

There was a constant chatter of different voices, from witches and wizards pushing their way through and making up the crowd that stretched throughout the entire street. Cats were roaming freely around it, some carrying notes and packages in their mouths, some just walking around, purring contently in the warm sun. A pair of owls came soaring from around a corner, high above the street, carrying between them a long, rectangular package, and flew right into an open window a few storeys up. Seconds later, they came back out, without the package. 

Bill, Charlie and their father walked through the hole in the wall and immediately turned left, going straight into the cauldron shop, which was the first shop on the street. They emerged minutes later, Bill clutching his new cauldron in his hand and Charlie looking a bit envious. They bought a basic set of potions ingredients from the Apothecary, Bill and Charlie highly interested in a jar of green soggy stuff that looked like frog intestines. They walked past the Owl Emporium, and paused for a bit outside the Quality Quidditch Supplies, to look at some new Comets on display, before going into _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions,_ right opposite the snowy white building of Gringotts bank. 

They were greeted by a squat, smiling witch dressed all in forget-me-not blue, Madam Malkin, who had owned the shop for several years. She beckoned them to sit at a couple of chairs by the door, taking Bill by the hand and showing him to the back of the shop. She stood him up on a footstool, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

It took a fair while, but finally he was let down from the stool and he, Charlie and their father left the shop with three sets of brand new robes. They walked down the street, Bill carrying his new cauldron, Charlie the potion ingredients, and his father the robes, the boys never stopping their commentary on the surroundings. 

"Wow did you see that, that looked like an orc!"

"Ew, just what in the world are those things used for?"

"Did that wizard turn himself into a falcon just now?"

"Hey, check out those gold chess sets! Could do with one of those, eh?"

"Wow, I don't think she intended to do that… Her hair's starting to come off, look!"

They got Bill's scales and phials at _Measure and Mixture_ and set off towards the bookshop, strange and wonderful things all around them as they walked down the crowded street, reaching _Flourish and Blotts_ a little out of breath. It was very hot out. In the window there was a display of some gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs - all dusty and ancient - that seemed like they had been there for ages. Bill's father went inside first, holding the door open for Bill and Charlie, and then walked up to the counter.

"We would like one set of school books, first year, and a copy of _Wandless Wizardry_," Bill's father said to the manager who was standing behind the counter, handing him the list with Bill's school equipment.

"Wandless Wizardry?" asked Charlie as the manager went out around the bookshelves and started putting books into a bag that was floating behind him in the air.

"It's a Muggle study, Charlie," his father answered.

"Oh... I didn't think they could use magic."

"Oh, they can't, it's about their ways of getting on without it. It's really quite fascinating, what they've thought up with all their eckeltricity and technology!"

Bill caught Charlie's eye. He looked doubtful.

The manager returned, with a bag full of books.

"There you are," the manager said, handing the bag and the list to Bill's father, who handed it to Bill. "That'll be twenty Galleons and thirteen Sickles, thank you very much."

"Right, only your wand and the telescope left," Bill's father said as they left the shop. "We should be able to get the telescope over at _Kindred Constellations_, and then we'll head toward Ollivander's."

"What has Astronomy got to do with magic?" Charlie asked as they walked down the street.

"Lots. Some magic only works when there's a full moon, and some magic requires the stars to be in a particular alignment, not to mention the horoscopes in fortune telling," his father answered. "You'll be learning that in your third year," he added, looking at Bill.

"Fortune telling? That stuff's not for real?" Charlie asked.

"Who knows? The only ones who are said to be able to do it are the ones gifted with the 'Inner Eye', and they believe it, naturally."

"Of course, they make a living breathing gas fumes and poke around bird entrails," Bill added. "Who wouldn't start to see the future?"

"Do you believe it, Dad?" Charlie asked.

"Given my experience, I'd... Well, it depends you see -"

"What's going on over there?" Bill interrupted them, pointing towards the end of the street.

There was a small crowd of people there, looking half-interested while watching a couple of Ministry wizards who seemed to be surveying a small area outside of a house. There was short, portly man with a bowler hat over his rumpled brown hair, which was turning grey, standing and talking to a tall, well-built man with black hair and a large moustache, who looked as though he was being questioned. The wizards standing next to them made a series of strange gestures in the air, drawing up runes, which flew down and planted themselves on the ground. They disappeared moments later, and the wizards shook their heads thoughtfully.

Bill's father walked over to the two talking wizards, and Bill and Charlie followed. When he got there, Bill's father said: "Well, if it isn't Cornelius Fudge! How are you doing, old boy?"

The wizard with the bowler hat turned to face him. His face cracked into a pleasant smile.

"Arthur? Well what a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here?" he said, taking Bill's father's hand and shaking it.

"I'm out shopping for Bill's school things, he's starting Hogwarts this year. What's happened here?"

"Break-in," the other wizard said, and Bill's father jumped. He stared at the wizard for a short time, before beginning to speak.

"Frankie?" he asked.

The wizard laughed, a low and good-natured rumble, his eyes twinkling.

"How's it going, Weasley?" the wizard said, grinning at Bill's father, who laughed as well, and then they both opened their arms and embraced each others like brothers, slapping each other on the backs.

"It's been a while, it's been a really long while," Bill's father said, backing away and holding his hands on the other wizard's shoulders. "How you been doing?"

"Fine, fine," the wizard said. "Gotten a lot calmer since Voldemort disappeared."

Nearly everyone flinched, and the people walking past them hurried on their steps, throwing dirty glances at the wizard.

"Frank, will you please say You-Know-Who?" Fudge said, tucking his robe around him as if he was cold. 

"Why? Anyway, good to see you Arthur."

"Yes, good to see you too," Bill's father said, smiling broadly, and then turned to Bill and Charlie.

"Frankie, I believe you've met my sons?"

"Yes, I believe I've met the lot of your family," the wizard said. "Which ones are these?"

"This is Bill and Charlie, the oldest two. Bill, Charlie, this is Frankie, we worked together on the Accidental Magic Reversal Department when we were younger."

Bill and Charlie both muttered 'hellos' and Frank nodded.

"So what's happened here?" Bill's father repeated.

"A break-in, or almost anyway," Fudge said. "A couple of people tried to force themselves into this house, but they were caught in the middle of it and escaped."

"Caught by whom?"

"Me," Frank said. "The actual attempted break-in was several hours ago, but these Magical Law Enforcement wizards here didn't arrive until an hour later. Fudge here only arrived a few minutes ago."

"Why? Is there something special about this break-in?" Bill's father asked.

"You could say that," Fudge said. "The owner of this house is a Thomas Sebastian, the head of a small side department of the Magical Law Enforcement, dedicated to the protection of Harry Potter. That, and the fact that Frank here was involved brought me here. As head of the Magical Law Enforcement, it was my duty to oversee the crime scene."

"Oh, yes, I heard about your promotion, congratulations!" Bill's father said, clapping Fudge on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Arthur," Fudge said, looking very smug.

"I heard you got promoted too, Arthur," Frank said. "What'd they make you?"

Bill's father grinned. "I'm head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Frank laughed. "How I remember your obsession with the Muggle culture. Finally got your dream, eh Arthur?" he chuckled.

Bill's father just smiled. Fudge looked disbelieving for a second before starting to speak again.

"Anyway, how did you catch the culprits, Frank? What were you doing up so early?"

"I had been over to the headquarters of the Department of Mysteries," Frank said. "You should know that already, Fudge, being who you are."

"I do, I'm just double-checking," Fudge answered.

"Good, then I trust I won't have to mention what I did there?" Frank said, sounding serious all of a sudden.

"Of course not, Frank, of course not. Now how did you stumble upon the thieves?"

"I live here, Fudge, right next door to Thomas. I saw them standing huddled around the door, four people, speaking in mumbles. Judging from their voices, there was at least one woman among them. They seemed to be performing some kind of charm on the door. I asked them what they were doing and they all jumped. Began to run away."

"Didn't you try to stop them?" Fudge asked, looking puzzled.

"I did. I Stunned one of them, but the other three just picked him up and kept on running, around a corner and out of sight. I tried to follow them at first, but it was a lost cause."

"I see. You didn't manage to see their faces?"

"No. It was dark, and they had their robes pulled over their heads."

Fudge sighed. He looked over at the investigating wizards who seemed to have given up.

"Nothing?" Fudge asked.

"This is a common street, Mr Fudge. Too many people walk here every day, and there's not a trace on the door. They seemed to know what they were doing," one of the wizards said.

Fudge sighed again.

"You don't have any clues as to who it might've been?" Bill's father asked.

"Regular crooks in my opinion," Fudge said. "Or maybe some fanatic Harry Potter admirers."

"You don't think they could have been Death Eaters then? Their lot can't be too happy with Harry Potter."

"No, I don't think so. No reason why they should, except maybe for revenge. No, not very likely." Fudge looked around the area again. "Well, then I guess there's not much left to do. Get a hold of Mr Sebastian and ask his permission to let some Ministry wizards put a ward around his house, just in case."

"I think that's him, Fudge," Frank said, looking down the street, where a shocked wizard was staring disbelieving at the crowd outside his house, beginning to jog towards them.

"Well, we should be off," Bill's father said, giving Frank a hug again and shaking Fudge's hand. "It was nice meeting you both, say hello to Eloise for me, Frankie!"

"I will, Arthur, and you say hi to Molly and the rest of your family for me!" Frank called after him as Bill's father began to walk away, followed by Bill and Charlie. They all waved, and continued down the street, just as Mr Sebastian reached his house and frantically began asking questions.

"That was Cornelius Fudge, Dad?" Bill asked.

"That's right."

"And he's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Charlie asked.

"That's right."

"And he's one of the favourites for Minister of Magic?" Bill asked.

"That's right," their father said again. "He used to be Head of the Department of Mysteries."

"Hm... It would be cool if he won, because then you'd be a personal friend of the Minister of Magic, right Dad?" Charlie said.

Their father smiled slightly. "We're not that close really. I just happened to be in the same year as Fudge at Hogwarts. Old school friend."

"You and that Frankie fellow did seem a lot closer." Bill switched the book-bag in his hand over to the other.

"We are. It's hard not to like Frankie; he's such a character. We did a lot of fun stuff together when we worked on the Accidental Magic Reversal Department. Mind you, we saw a lot of fun stuff together as well. Amazing what magic can do when handled improperly." 

Their father drifted off, a faraway look in his eyes, as he smilingly turned right and went into the _Kindred Constellations Astronomy Shop_, emerging minutes later with a telescope and some glow-in-the-dark planets and stars which Charlie hadn't been able to keep his eyes off. They were just like the stickers Muggle children stuck to the ceiling, only these moved around, exploding every now and then and creating new ones. Charlie had paid a large portion of his savings for them.

"Now there's only your wand left, Bill." His father wiped his forehead. "What do you say we get some ice cream over at Florean Fortescue's before we go to Ollivander's, eh?"

Both Bill and Charlie heartily agreed, and so they walked back up the street they came from, a fair few hundred yards, before coming to a halt outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, sitting down and ordering three large strawberry and peanut-butter ice-creams.

"It's been a fine day," their father remarked, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah," Charlie agreed, quietly eating his ice cream.

"I wonder what that break-in business was all about though," Bill said thoughtfully. "Fudge didn't seem very worried."

"Fudge is very keen to keep the peace in the wizarding world," his father answered. "Nobody liked the chaos during You-Know-Who's reign, but he was especially sensitive to it. He likes it neat and ordered, Fudge. He sees what he wants to see."

"But why would common thieves try and break into the house of the Head of the Harry Potter Protection Branch? Did they know what they were doing, you think?" Charlie said.

"Who knows?" yawned their father. "Though I myself am curious about how skilled the thieves were at covering their tracks, and that they worked in a party of four." He sighed. "They won't have much luck if they try again though. Those protection wards Fudge was talking about are very hard to break through. Nobody uninvited would be able to get past them."

Bill secretly wondered what Frank had been doing at the Department of Mysteries that was so secret he wouldn't mention it in public. That always had seemed like the most interesting department. He longed to know what they were up to, but knew better than to ask.

They finished their ice creams and made their way towards Ollivander's. Bill was so excited that he almost felt nauseated. Bill's father held the door up, letting Bill and Charlie go in first.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice greeted them as they got in. Mr Ollivander was sitting behind a desk at the opposite wall, looking at them with polite curiosity.

He looked up when their father came in. "Arthur Weasley, what a pleasant surprise!" he exclaimed amiably, and their father grinned and nodded. "If I'm not very much mistaken, your oldest son will be going to Hogwarts this year, will he not, Arthur?"

"He will," Bill's father said, beaming at Bill. "And that is indeed why we are here."

Mr Ollivander put down the book he had been reading ('_A World of Wands_') and walked over to them. He bent down in front of Bill, bringing his face level to his.

"Now this... Would be Bill Weasley, wouldn't it?"

Bill nodded awkwardly, finding it very hard to look into Mr Ollivanders eyes without blinking.

"It seems like only yesterday that your father came in here, buying his first wand. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, twelve inches. You still have it, don't you Arthur?" Mr Ollivander asked, looking up at Bill's father, who nodded brightly.

"Your mother on the other hand paid seven Galleons and two Sickles for a mahogany wand, nine inches, containing the tail feather of a phoenix. And she was in here again, just five years later, getting her second one. Maple and phoenix feather, eleven inches." He looked up at Bill's father again. "Whatever happened to the goat that ate her first one?" 

Bill's father looked up into the ceiling and thought for a while. "Um... It went beige for a couple of days, I think, before it turned into a turtle. We never got the wand back." 

Mr Ollivander nodded slowly. He turned back to look at Bill. 

"Which is your wand arm?" he asked.

Bill held out his right arm, and Mr Ollivander began to measure it, shoulder to wrist, wrist to elbow, thumb to pinkie, and then his legs, knees to armpits, feet to waist, heel to toes. He turned away abruptly, letting the tape measure continue on its own while he went over to one of the piles of boxes and took down three different ones, seemingly at random, and returned to Bill. 

"That's enough," he said, and the tape measure dropped from where it had been measuring between Bill's front teeth and crumpled into a heap on the floor.

He opened the lid on one of the boxes and took out a wand.

"Maple and dragon heartstring, twelve inches and a third," he said. "Try it out."

Charlie looked very jealous indeed when Mr Ollivander handed Bill the wand. Bill himself felt very nervous, and accepted the wand with an unsteady hand, though he hardly got to touch it before it was snatched back by Mr Ollivander.

"Holly and unicorn hair, nine inches, try this one instead."

Bill gave it a wave, and Mr Ollivander quickly took it back.

"No, no, no... How about this one, Beechwood and unicorn hair, seven inches, rather bendy."

Bill had little success, and Mr Ollivander put the wands back into their boxes, put them back where he had taken them, and returned with three more boxes.

"Oak and phoenix feather, ten and a half inches, this might be the one, go on."

Bill took the wand and gave it a wave, but he could just as well have been waving a stick he'd found on the ground. Mr Ollivander immediately took the wand back and gave him another.

"Willow and unicorn hair, eleven inches, pleasantly springy..."

Bill took the wand, and instantly felt a warm feeling in his fingers. He swished the wand a bit, and a mix of green and yellow sparks shot out from the tip. Bill's father clapped his hands while Charlie scowled.

"Well done, Mr Weasley, well done!" Mr Ollivander seemed very happy. "I got that unicorn hair only last week, when I was in Wales. A very fine unicorn it was, practically let me take the hair. Curious animals, unicorns... Others have tried to kill me when I took theirs."

Mr Ollivander wrapped the wand up into its box, and handed it to Bill, who put it in his inner pocket.

"That will be eight Galleons and nine Sickles." 

Bill's father paid for the wand, and Mr Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

"How come I can't have a wand yet?" Charlie asked when they left the shop, and began heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. "I don't have to go to school to learn a couple of simple spells."

"There are laws against underage wizardry, Charlie. Bill won't get to use his wand until he's at Hogwarts. Well, maybe when he gets to platform nine and three quarters, but that's it."

Bill felt a bit put down by this news; he had been feeling very keen to get home and try out some spells. But he recovered quickly. With the help of his new wand, the scales had tipped his way. As they got to the Leaky Cauldron, as he threw Floo powder into the fire and watched it turn green, Bill's mind was made up.

He was going to Hogwarts. And he was definitely thrilled.


End file.
